


Things You Said

by archdemonblood



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: M/M, Sexuality Crisis, fluff with minor angst, homophobia mention, masturbation mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8804770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archdemonblood/pseuds/archdemonblood
Summary: "#20 - Things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear." In their sixth year at Hogwarts, Scorpius Malfoy wakes up in the middle of the night, just in time to overhear something he was never meant to, which might lead to a dramatic change in his relationship with Albus Potter. An answer to a post from this meme: http://archdemonblood.tumblr.com/post/154064297888/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a





	

It was the witching hour in the Slytherin dormitories: the late-night crammers had finally retired and the early risers had not yet risen. Heavy green bed curtains were drawn all around the room, Scorpius’ own included, and one could hear the gentle movement of the water above, drowning out the snores of roommates and lulling frightened children or restless teenagers back to sleep. 

Scorpius didn’t know what had woken him at this hour. He didn’t have to pee. He wasn’t thirsty. There was no signs of any kind of disturbance, light or sound. He couldn’t recall his dream, which must have meant it wasn’t very bad. His heart rate seemed normal. No sudden epiphany that he’d forgotten something important overtook him. He was just... awake. 

He rolled over onto a cooler part of his sheets, closed his eyes, and waited for sleep to take him again. _‘Quickly, please,’_ he thought, _‘I’ve got to be up in three hours to finish a Tranfiguration essay.’_

It seemed, for a moment, that his body might comply, but then he heard a moan from the bed next to him. Albus’ bed. Scorpius wondered if whatever had woken him up might have woken Albus up as well, but then he realized that Albus’ moans were long and deep and... not at all moans of distress. Albus was pleasuring himself. He was trying hard to be quiet about it, to his credit, and Scorpius very much doubted that this was what had awoken him, but now that he _was_ awake, he was in a bit of an awkward position: he could politely ask Albus to quiet down or wait until later, and deal with the awkwardness of _that_ in the morning, or he could lay here quietly, and deal with the present awkwardness of listening to his best friend wank. 

Scorpius couldn’t decide what to do, and his indecision became a decision in its own right. Scorpius listened to Albus wank for so long that he couldn’t possibly ask Albus to stop, because the idea of letting Albus know that he’d been listening was now more humiliating for Scorpius than being eavesdropped on would be for Albus. 

So Scorpius waited. How long could one guy wank for? Ten minutes, if he really took his time? Scorpius could ride this out. 

\--Bad choice of words, perhaps. 

The first time that Scorpius heard his name, it was so soft and jumbled that Scorpius could have dismissed it as a trick of his own mind. Albus might have said “score us” or “snore puss” or any number of other things. Scorpius didn’t know. He continued to lay in bed quietly, now listening more carefully than he had ever intended to. 

No more than five minutes went by before Albus came. It was probably less than that. But when Albus came, he said, “Oh, yes, Scorpius!” so clearly, leaving Scorpius to lie awake in bed and contemplate what that might mean long after Albus drifted off to sleep. 

Scorpius laid awake for an hour. Had Albus been fantasizing about him? Scorpius had known for years that Albus was bi. He’d been the first to know, after Albus himself. It had never occurred to Scorpius before, though, that Albus might have feelings for _him_.

It made sense, Scorpius supposed. They’d always had each other, even when they had no one else. They knew each other like the back of their hands, and their friendship had survived more than most marriages ever did. And here Scorpius was, listening to Albus moan and getting _hard_ , though he didn’t dare to touch himself. There was plenty of evidence to indicate that, should Scorpius choose to pursue this, they had a good chance of making something of it.

_You’re giving up your kingdom for Albus, right?_

And yet, it didn’t make any sense at all. Scorpius shook his head. He couldn’t just make major life decisions based on something a dead man had never actually said. Scorpius had never thought about boys like that. Although, he’d been very quick to accept Albus. And it did make him happy whenever he saw Cieran, the seventh-year Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, holding hands or sharing lunch with his Hufflepuff boyfriend. But that was just being a good person! And sure, Scorpius had had a few interesting dreams about Mason Graves, but every straight had that one celebrity they’d go gay for, and Scorpius’ just happened to be the lead singer of the American wizpop band, The Thunderboys. And the drummer. Maybe the bassist as well, after a shot or two of firewhiskey. 

Really, the Thunderboys were an exceptionally good-looking band. 

Albus was... Albus was okay. Albus was better looking than Scorpius. Albus had bright green eyes that felt like reading under a tree in the garden on a summer day. Albus had maybe two dozen freckles, probably less, scattered around his body like a constellation waiting to be mapped. Albus had long hair and he loved it when Scorpius played with it. Albus smiled more now than he used to (Scorpius did as well) and his perfect teeth lit up the room. 

It made sense, except in all the ways that it didn’t. 

It was better to just let it go. Scorpius would likely not even remember this by the time he woke up. He comforted himself with that thought as he drifted off to sleep.

~*~

Scorpius remembered everything when he woke. It hit him like a knockback jinx the moment he pulled back his bed curtain and and saw Albus’ bed.

He took a single, deep breath, then decided that he couldn’t deal with this now. He had an essay due in 90 minutes, and it wasn’t finished. It was _nearly_ finished, and he could write the remaining three paragraphs in an hour, easily, but the walk to and from the library would take time, and he wanted to be on the safe side, and maybe give himself five minutes to wolf down some breakfast when he was done.

No, he couldn’t deal with this now. He had to get dressed.

Albus and Scorpius were no longer quite the losers they had been in their first few years. Albus, with some encouragement from their head of house, was well on his way to a promising career as an astronomer, with solid grades and a relationship with his family that was, if nothing else, okay. He’d retired “Slytherin Squib” as a nickname, and now that he and Rose were getting along decently again, most people left him alone  In what Scorpius suspected was an attempt to look as little like his father as possible, Albus had grown his hair into a long undercut that he braided to keep it neat. Even though Albus complained every other day about his contact lense, he coldly refused to wear glasses. He had a certain style that was cute, in its way, and Scorpius had watched him go through two boyfriends in the last twelve months, though Albus was currently single. 

Scorpius had grown up tall and skinny and all sharp angles, or so he thought. He was a nerd who spent his free time reading history, and at seventeen years old had yet to have a real kiss. He was doing well in school, as he always had. Although his father had been supportive of his decision to take Muggle Studies as an elective in his third year, he’d encouraged Scorpius to drop it for a more rigorous course of study at the N.E.W.T  level, so Scorpius had a full course of challenging work, most of which would in no way prepare him for the career he wasn’t going to have. Malfoys didn’t have jobs. They had interests to protect: property to manage and charities to donate to and politics to meddle in, though less of that last one in recent generations. Scorpius’ father had mostly been focused on restoring some semblance of honor to the family name, and the best way to accomplish that was to give the Ministry some space, at this point. Scorpius knew that it would be wise of him to do the same. Perhaps his children would go back into politics. 

If he had them. There was that flip in his stomach again. 

He was dressed. Time to get to the library. He could shower during his break after class. 

There was only one other student in the library at this ungodly hour, and that was Rose Granger-Weasley. She’d pulled the three best Transfiguration books from the shelves and was scribbling furiously. Since it didn’t look like she had nearly as much done as Scorpius did, he decided to let her have the best resources, and he settled in with the _fourth_ best text book. He knew where he was going with his final paragraphs anyway. All there was left to do was make one final point and write his conclusion. 

When he’d tackled the harder two paragraphs, he found his eyes drifting over to the cover of his binder. Last summer, he’d stumbled upon an old photo of his parents on their wedding day. His father wasn’t looking at the camera; he was looking at Scorpius’ mother, enthralled, as if he were afraid that she’d vanish if he took his eyes off her for even a moment. Scorpius’ mother, however, was looking at the camera and laughing, radiant and healthy, and angelic in her white wedding dress. 

Scorpius wondered if he could be that happy with someone. 

It ought to have been a simple thing. Scorpius had to either tell Albus that he was uncomfortable with it, or say nothing and pretend it had never happened. Yet there was a third option that Scorpius couldn’t push out of his mind: he could tell Albus that he _was_ comfortable with it. Very comfortable with it. 

“What should I do, mum?” Scorpius asked. 

His mother just kept laughing, and gave no answer. 

“You have a living parent you could ask, you know,” said a voice behind Scorpius. 

Scorpius jumped and knocked over his ink pot. Luckily, it missed everything important and only ran out onto the table, and Scorpius picked the pot up before too much of it spilled. Rose rapped her wand against the table to clean up the mess, and the librarian didn’t even seem to notice them. 

“You scared me,” Scorpius said. 

“So I see,” Rose said, giggling slightly. “I’m sorry. I was only saying. You might get a better answer from the parent that’s still alive.” 

Scorpius looked at the photograph of his mother. “Maybe,” he agreed. “The parent that’s alive is also far more likely to tell me something I don’t want to hear.”

Rose nodded. “There’s that. What’s the problem?” 

Scorpius looked at her, but found that he couldn’t do so for long. “You’ll laugh,” he said. 

“Try me,” Rose said. 

“I strongly suspect that someone I know has feelings for me.”

“Ha!” Rose said, earning them a glare from the librarian. 

Scorpius looked at her and raised an eyebrow pointedly. 

“I tried,” she said. 

“Is it so ridiculous that someone might be interested in me?” Scorpius asked. 

“No,” Rose said, without hesitating. That made Scorpius feel a little better. “But surely you can appreciate the irony of this situation?” 

“I didn’t _ask_ for your help,” Scorpius pointed out. “You were eavesdropping.” 

“Yes,” Rose said. “On a private conversation between you and a photograph that was never going to answer you.” Roses eyes lingered on Scorpius’ mother for a few seconds, and her tone got much softer. “She was pretty,” Rose said. 

“Thank you.”

“You still miss her?” 

“Every day. It hurts a little bit less, now, but it’s still there. Probably always will be.”

Rose nodded solemnly. “So what would she tell you, if she were here? If she could answer?”

“She’d tell me to follow my heart,” Scorpius said, “which isn’t all that helpful when she’s not here to tell me what my heart is saying.” 

Rose sighed. “I understand,” she said. She sat on the table, next to Scorpius’ books, so that she towered over him. “Yann Fredericks and Nicholas Zabini both asked me on dates at Hogsmeade during our next visit. I haven’t given either of them an answer yet.” 

“Nicholas Zabini the fourth year Slytherin?” Scorpius said. “Merlin’s beard, he must be floored that you’re even considering it! That’s more than you ever gave me!”

Rose froze, and then gave Scorpius a serious look. “It’s never going to be you, Scorpius. You need to understand that if we’re going to talk about this.”

Scorpius squinted at her. He honestly hadn’t thought about it. Here was Rose Granger-Weasley, sitting on a table in front of him with her long legs stretched out and resting on the chair beside him, and all Scorpius had thought about was Albus. In fact, reflecting back on it, he couldn’t recall thinking of Rose Granger-Weasley in months, perhaps since the last school year. “Understood,” Scorpius said, and perhaps it was because it seemed so _small_ after talking about his mother, but Scorpius felt no sense of loss at the surrender. 

“There are lots of girls in the world, Scorpius,” Rose said. 

“And lots of boys.”

“Ugh. Too many boys.” Rose rested her elbows on her knees and began to play with one of her natural red twists. “It would look weird if I went out with Nicholas, wouldn’t it?” she asked. “He’s so much younger, and a Slytherin, and Yann is--Yann is a Gryffindor, and he’s our age, and he’s an excellent Keeper and a really good student and... We make sense together, don’t we? Yann and I would look right together.”

“It makes sense,” Scorpius conceded. “But that doesn’t mean it’s what you want.”

“I don’t know what I want,” Rose said. 

A thought occurred to Scorpius that he didn’t think had occurred to Rose. “Who asked you out first?” he asked. 

“Yann.” 

“So why’d didn’t you say yes, right then and there?”

Rose opened her mouth, but no sound came out. 

“Because you didn’t want him,” Scorpius said, reasonably sure of the fact. “I don’t know if you want Nicholas Zabini, but you don’t want Yann Fredericks.”

Rose nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “I don’t. And the thing is, Nicholas and I are in the Orchestra together, and he’s funny and smart and really handsome, and I like him, I do, but I don’t want everyone to think I’m robbing the cradle or something.”

“If you were a boy and he were a girl, no one would think anything of a sixth year dating a fourth year. And in ten years, when you’re twenty-six and he’s twenty-four, will it really matter?”

“You’re not wrong,” Rose said. “But there’s also the fact that he’s a Slytherin, and from one of those old pureblood families.”

“So?” Scorpius asked. 

“So,” Rose said, “what if there’s trouble with his family?”

“Well, Rose, it’s not exactly a secret that you’re a half-blood, is it? Your mum’s Minister for Magic. I think that any guy who asks you out is going to be prepared for that, and I would know. If you’re that worried about it, ask _him_. If his answer doesn’t put you at ease, don’t go out with him.” 

Rose nodded slowly. “It’s worth a shot, anyway, I guess. What about you? Can you see yourself with this someone?” 

“I... I think so?” In truth, Scorpius hadn’t been able to see himself _without_ Albus for four or five years now. He’d just never put it in this context before. The idea of Albus moving into Malfoy Manor was nice, and something he’d fantasized about many times before. He liked the idea of Sunday brunches with Albus and getting a cat with Albus and the warmth of Albus’ body around his at night. 

The thought of kissing Albus, however, was pleasant for about two seconds, and then it felt like getting splashed with cold water. It was strange and terrifying. 

“What?” Rose asked. 

“What?” 

“You flinched. What are you afraid of?” 

It was a good question. “The destruction of all I thought I knew about my identity and a sudden jump to a very different trajectory for a life I didn’t realize I had become so attached to? The possibility that _this_ would be the thing that finally breaks my father and makes him revert back to his conservative upbringing? Oh, and people spreading rumors about me again.” 

“No one is going to spread rumors about you anymore,” Rose said. “My mom said those rumors weren't true.” 

“And people always agree with the Minister. That’s why our prisons are empty!” 

Rose huffed. “If anyone starts spreading new rumors about you, I’ll punch them.” 

Scorpius blinked at her. My, how things changed when you left a girl alone for a few months and helped defeat a Dark Lord! 

Rose seemed to realize this as well, and she blushed. “I--It’s like... early... Auror training.” It was a well-known fact that Rose wanted to be an Auror.

“Okay,” Scorpius said. “Thanks.” 

“But we both have to be brave, okay? I’ll talk to Nicholas, and you talk to your girl.” 

“Boy,” Scorpius said. 

“Oh,” Rose said. Then she blinked hard a couple of times. “ _Oh_. Okay. Cool.  I’ll talk to Nicholas, and you talk to your boy.”  

“Agreed,” Scorpius said, smiling at her. “Are we friends now? This doesn’t feel like the sort of conversation one has with an acquaintance.”

Rose smirked, and jumped off the table. “Depends on how things go with Nicholas. I can’t be friends with someone who gives bad advice. It’s been a good talk, though.” 

“Yeah,” Scorpius said. His eyes fell back to his mother’s smiling face in the photograph, and he smiled a little himself. “Almost like some higher power brought us here.” 

“Yeah,” Rose said playfully, “A three-page essay on conjuration.” She glanced at the clock. “Hope yours is done, by the way! The bell’s going to ring any minute now!” 

“Shit,” Scorpius said. 

“See you in class,” Rose said, walking away as Scorpius furiously scribbled a conclusion to his essay. It wasn’t a _good_ conclusion, but it was only a conclusion. How much would it really matter? He finished as the first bell rang, giving him just enough time to get to the classroom before being marked late and having points deducted. 

Albus wasn’t taking Transfiguration at the N.E.W.T. level. Scorpius wouldn’t have class with him until after lunch, though he’d see him on breaks, but after Transfigurations, they had a break (during which Albus would likely only just be getting up) and then a free hour, followed by lunch. It was three whole hours for them to talk. Should Scorpius talk to him then, or was this the sort of thing best left for after History of Magic class in the afternoon? They both had to go to History and wouldn’t be able to avoid each other. If Scorpius waited until after History, he’d have the whole weekend to avoid Albus in embarrassment, if it came to that. That would be better. It was better to wait until after all of their classes for the day. 

Scorpius took his normal seat in the corner of the room. Since word had gotten out that Voldemort’s _actual_ child had been found and it was definitely not Scorpius, people had been friendlier to him. The perky Hufflepuff girl who sat beside him, Lena Macmillan, was polite and always willing to work with Scorpius when they were partnered up. Scorpius appreciated that. Rose, for her part, sat with her usual group of three friends, but she flashed Scorpius a smile when he made it in before the late bell. 

Professor Elthelinda Green was not Scorpius’ favorite professor, but she was in the top three. She was a tall blonde in her late twenties, Head of Hufflepuff House, and the inappropriate crush of half the school. Scorpius had never felt that way about her. Her lessons were dynamic and challenging, and even though Scorpius struggled with conjuration in practice, he was able to successfully perform it with her help. The essay Scorpius handed in could have been better if he hadn’t been so distracted while writing it, but all in all, it was a successful class.

When it was over, Scorpius had a choice to make: He could go down and meet up with Albus as usual, or avoid Albus until he was ready to talk. For one thing, Albus would be waking up late and heading to the showers, then to the kitchen for a light breakfast to hold him over until lunch. Scorpius had not yet showered _or_ eaten, so today of all days, he wanted to accompany Albus on those activities. And Scorpius didn’t want Albus to get the sense that Scorpius was avoiding him and go into this conversation with a bad feeling about it. No. It would be better to go to him. 

Every dorm room in Hogwarts had its own dorm-style bathroom attached, with three shower stalls, three toilets, and five sinks. When Scorpius got back to the dorm room, all beds were empty, and two of the shower stalls were locked with the water running. Scorpius jumped into the third, and got out as Albus was brushing his teeth in his bathrobe. 

“Morning,” Scorpius said, trying to sound casual. 

Albus nodded at him. “‘orning,” he said, not taking his toothbrush out of his mouth. 

“You going to the kitchen for breakfast?” Scorpius asked, already knowing the answer. 

Albus nodded and then spat into the sink. 

“Mind if I join you?” Scorpius said. “I didn’t have time to grab breakfast before Transfigurations this morning.”  
“Thought you said you’d have plenty of time?” Albus said playfully, rinsing off his toothbrush and putting it away. 

Scorpius shrugged. “I was distracted.” 

“By what?” 

Shit. Scorpius stared at Albus blankly for three awkward seconds. “... It was a really good Transfigurations book?” 

Albus eyed Scorpius suspiciously for a moment, then shrugged and shook his head. “Only you would say that.” 

Scorpius had only been wearing his clothes a few hours, but he decided to put on new ones anyway, after his shower. Albus got dressed, and quickly did his hair with magic, and headed to the kitchens. 

With Albus, James, Lily, Rose, Hugo, Fred, and Roxanne all making regular visits to the kitchens and bringing their friends, it was now perhaps the worst kept secret in all of Hogwarts, which was really saying something. It was quite common for N.E.W.T. level students to drop in after their first class if they revised through breakfast. The house elves expected it, at this point, and always had a small buffet waiting for them.  

By law, house elves had to be paid now. A single Knut a day and four days off a year hardly seemed like a triumph for freedom to Scorpius, but then, the house-elf they had at home never even seemed to spend her money, or use her days off, and she _certainly_ didn’t like discussing either of those topics. Most elves still wouldn’t wear proper clothes unless commanded to by a very angry employer. It was illegal for employers to order their elves to punish themselves now, though. Hermione Granger _was_ making progress for the elves, as Minister. 

Rose was already in the kitchen when Albus and Scorpius got there. Scorpius should have seen that coming, he supposed. Rose was seated at the equivalent of the Ravenclaw table, enjoying some pastries with her friends. Albus and Scorpius waved at her, and she nodded at them, and the boys grabbed a couple of donuts and some fruit and wandered over to the Slytherin table to sit by themselves, though they could still easily hear the girls’ conversation. 

“Doesn’t the Zabini family have a... history?” Polly asked. 

“Right,” Rose said. “Silly me. He’s probably just after that famous Weasley Fortune.” She looked over at Scorpius and smiled.

“What’s that about?” Albus asked. 

“Nothing,” Scorpius said. “We had a talk in the library, earlier.” 

“About how good your transfiguration book is?” Albus said, quirking an eyebrow. 

“No,” Scorpius said. “About boys.” 

Albus’ face froze for a few seconds. “Boys?” He repeated. 

“Like Nicholas Zabini,” Scorpius said. “He asked her out.” 

“And she talked to you about this because...?” 

Scorpius bit his lip hard enough to hurt, and then released it. He leaned in close to Albus, and whispered so that the girls wouldn’t hear: “I heard you, last night. You said my name.” 

Albus’ face turned scarlet. “Did I--I said that outloud?” 

Scorpius nodded. 

“And you told _my cousin_?!” Albus said, still whispering, but harsh enough to get a few glances from the girls. 

“I didn’t tell anyone anything,” Scorpius promised softly. “It was a very _vague_ talk.” 

Albus calmed, but his face didn’t get any less red. “Oh,” he said. “Well. Thank you for that. Now, I’m going to take this donut and leave, and if you would be so kind as to give me a five minute head-start...” Albus was already standing and beginning to walk away. 

“Wait!” Scorpius said, no longer whispering. “Where are you going?” 

Albus looked at Scorpius like he couldn’t possibly be serious. “To find a nice hole to crawl into and die.” 

Scorpius stood as well. “I don’t want you to do that,” he said, reaching out and grabbing Albus’ free hand. “I wouldn’t have told you if I’d... I just thought that maybe...” Scorpius intertwined his fingers with Albus’ and looked at their hands pointedly. In that moment, he knew what his mother would say. He knew what his heart was saying. Some things are worth the risks. _Also,_ his mother’s voice said in his head, _If your father isn’t happy about it, remind him that his parents didn’t like his choice of partner either, and he knows how that ended. He’ll come around quickly._

Albus looked down at their hands for a moment, and then back up at Scorpius. “Are you telling me what I think you are?” 

Scorpius nodded. “Yeah.” 

Albus put his donut down, and with his newly freed hand, he tilted Scorpius’ jaw up, and brought their lips together. All of the girls were staring, but Scorpius didn’t care. His earlier terror was gone. This was right. It was the most right thing he’d ever done in his life, and it didn’t matter how his father or Albus’ father or anyone felt about it, because as long as Scorpius had Albus, they would be okay. 

When they broke the kiss, Albus looked at Scorpius and smiled. “You’ve got frosting on your chin.” He leaned forward, to Scorpius’ surprise and delight, and licked it off. 

“No more breakfast,” Albus said. “If we’re going to have our first lunch date in two hours, we’d better not spoil our appetites.” 

Scorpius raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is lunch a date now?” 

“Yes,” Albus said with certainty. “So is every class we have together, and any time we’re on the same piece of furniture in the common room or our dormitory.” 

“Oh good,” Scorpius said. “Because I intended to stare at you all through History of Magic anyway, and it won’t be weird if it’s a date.”


End file.
